Black Princess Mystery

THE BLACK
PRINCESS MYSTERY

Jim Power

Erotic
Romance

Secret
Cravings Publishing

www.secretcravingspublishing.com

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A Secret Cravings Publishing Book

Erotic Romance

The Black Princess Mystery

Copyright © 2014 Jim Power

Ebook ISBN:
978-1-63105-065-7

First Ebook Publication: January
2014

Cover design by Dawné Dominique

Edited by Sue Toth

Proofread by Stephanie Kinne

All cover art and logo copyright ©
2014 by Secret Cravings Publishing

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All characters and events in this
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strictly coincidental.

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Dedication

This novel
is dedicated to the memory of the Russian literary giant, Fyodor Dostoevsky,
the man whose works inspired me to become a writer at the age of fifteen.

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THE
BLACK PRINCESS MYSTERY

Jim Power

Copyright © 2014

Chapter
One

Lakeside
looked exactly the same to Tasheka, yet she knew that everything was now
drastically different. The houses, the cars, the Old Hanging Tree, everything
was unchanged. To other people there was nothing out of the ordinary and no
real cause for concern. But Tasheka felt a heavy foreboding, as if she was lost
in some kind of malignant fog. No, it was time to move on. Christmas was only
six days away. There was no need now for any negative thoughts. It was time to
escape them…at long last.

She
stopped with her Labrador retriever puppy and waited as four little girls
hurried to catch her, their colorful hats bobbing like Christmas lights in the
wind. Though in her early twenties, Tasheka laughed with the warmth of a child.
She had the look of an African princess and over time many passing strangers
had whispered words such as “gorgeous” or “beautiful.” Her skin was creamy
smooth and light brown, like milk chocolate, and her jet black hair was cut in
a perfectly straight line just below her ears, her full bangs resting against
her eyelashes when she had her eyes wide open. She had on a red and gold scarf
imprinted with an African design, a fluffy white Russian hat, and big, light
blue mittens. Around her hazel eyes she wore fine black eye liner, which her
mother said leant an air of intrigue, recalling the mysterious and enigmatic
Cleopatra. Her flame red lipstick was Taylor Swift bold.

As she stood
with Kie, steam from their breaths slowly rose in the cold morning air. It was
a spectacular winter's day, the kind pictured on postcards in country stores.
Lakeside looked like a giant ornamental globe as huge flakes drifted aimlessly
from the grey sky, softly falling on evergreens already drooping under a heavy
blanket of snow. The barren, fingerlike branches of towering maples, coated
with ice, waved in the breeze and tinkled like wind chimes.

It was
good to be alive.

The girls,
breathing deeply from their spirited run, stopped beside Kie with their
toboggans in tow. “Hi, Tasheka,” said a ten-year-old, her movements restricted
by a bulky lime green snow suit and big boots.

“Hi, Eva,”
Tasheka replied with a warm smile. The girls patted and hugged her puppy.” Be
careful on the hill,” she cautioned. “If the boys build that big jump at the
bottom, go around it.”

“Okay,”
Eva said, wiping her runny nose with a purple knitted mitten.

Another
girl smiled. “Merry Christmas, Tasheka.”

“Merry
Christmas, Amber. Merry Christmas, girls.”

The girls
hurried up the road, the wide legs of their suits scraping as they shuffled
along. Across the field, next to the huge red barn, two massive brown horses
with white faces pulled a sleigh full of straw. The farmer waved to Tasheka and
she waved back. Kie jerked on his leash and Tasheka laughed, then she led him
up Green Lane and turned left onto the Lakeside Road.

At almost
every driveway people were digging out from the blizzard or leaning on shovels
and sipping steaming drinks. Each of them greeted Tasheka with genuine
affection. She happily talked to all her friends, just as she had when she was
a little girl. But, unable to restrain Kie’s eagerness any longer, Tasheka
laughingly said good bye to the last villager and continued walking.

She
stopped at Big Mike’s store and looked through the large window at the
traditional Christmas display. Like every other year, the miniature model train
circled the quaint Swiss village, mountains painted on cutout cardboard in the
background. A tiny hunter wearing a red plaid coat carried a big rifle with a
knife hanging at his side. There was a little green ax embedded in a chopping
block the size of the top of her thumb, people skiing down a hillside, and
young lovers skating on a pond, their friends drinking hot chocolate on
benches. It was exactly the same as it had always been, right down to every
headstone in the cemetery. But then, unexpectedly, Tasheka Green noticed one
tiny difference. In the corner of the graveyard was a single white cross with
the black letters ‘TG’ inscribed on it. She was almost sure it had never been
there before.

Feeling
unnerved, Tasheka turned away and led Kie up the road. Her expression was
complex, as though she was purposely trying to distance herself from her own
emotions, but her eyes betrayed fear and guilt. Then, in a heartbeat, she
seemed to snap out of her dark brooding and regain her cheerful disposition. A
moment later she stopped on the little bridge and looked over the railing. Kie,
equally impressed with the sight and sound of the gushing water, stuck his head
through the crosspieces.

An errant
ray of sunshine animated Tasheka’s bright eyes and glittered on the diamond
stud in her nose. She paused for a long time, staring at the surging brown
water and thinking of the madness which was occurring in her life. From the
outside she looked to be a study in elegance and composure, her feminine shape
highlighted by the knee-length black coat with its gold and red Ukrainian
design on the chest and arms

Suddenly
images appeared in front of her as clearly as if they were on a movie screen.
She was naked on a bed in a dark motel room. Every three or four seconds the
billboard outside flashed
Paradise Motel
in gaudy red letters, the “i” in “Paradise” not showing because it had burned
out. The light cast from the sign penetrated the dirty curtains just enough for
her to see the silhouette of a nude man standing across the room. He was
staring at her. Tasheka’s body was covered in a thin film of perspiration, her
nipples were thick and taut, and the middle finger of her right hand was
sliding across her pussy, the hair wet and matted around her opening.